The Missing Piece
by Chemical-Rayne
Summary: Sakura reflects on her life after Sasuke leaves and realizes that he might not have been all she praised him to be. Oneshot. Hints of NaruSaku.


AN: Wanted to try something new here, and this is the product. Um, let's see how this goes, then.

~Kara

The Missing Piece

Sakura's POV

It was nighttime again. Of course it was. Night always followed day, and the darkness was only to be expected. But so soon? Did the sun have to leave me in the black abyss so soon?

I missed the day. I wanted the warmth of light to envelope me once again, wrap me in gentle, caressing arms and carry me to a place where I felt safe, away from all of this black emptiness. Because that's what the night represented: the dark, empty loneliness that threatened to devour me completely when I was most vulnerable.

Cold, night air blew in from the slightly-ajar window, chilling my skin and causing me to shiver in my thin, cotton sheets. The cool breeze opened my mind to the thoughts I desperately was trying to avoid, trying to hide from. I wanted to keep them hidden, repressed, never to be looked upon again.

Tears were already streaming down my face in a flurry of burning discomfort. My heart ached in my chest, throbbing with a painful pressure that continued to squeeze me until I thought I might burst. How desperately I wanted the night to end already so I could return to some semblance of a life.

But at this moment, it was still very dark outside, and the cool wind on my shivering shoulders was uncomfortable. I tried to swallow some of my more violent sobs, wiping my face of the torrent of tears only to have them replaced in seconds by twice as many more.

Moving to hang my legs over the side of the bed, I stood up, lightly tip-toeing across the cold, hardwood floor so as not to wake the others already slumbering peacefully in pleasant dreams. I couldn't be like them. The only dreams I managed to conjure were hollow nightmares that iced my sweat and caused me to wake up screaming in fear and longing, grievance and heartbreak. I was too tired to try and deal with reassembling my emotions after the many violent outbursts. I no longer wanted to try and find the eluding peace nighttime and dreams were supposed to bring. Because I knew they would not come.

Carefully I pressed my palm against the window, readying myself to close it and make my way back under the covers of my bed, where I would pray that morning would come quickly to spare me from the all-consuming darkness.

Before I could completely shut out the world from my bedroom, however, I noticed how brightly the stars seemed to shine on this particular night. So beautiful in their elusive presence. Never to be touched, but always to be yearned for, to be grasping for something better, something more.

I laughed lightly, something I had not been able to accomplish for a long time, now. Even if I tried to force it, the pleasant chuckles would still be much too distant, always out of reach of true happiness and splendor. I managed to create true joy this time, even if out of spite. For I had imagined myself trying to move on from the life I had been swallowed into, from the painful memories that seemed to haunt me everywhere I went.

Because _he_ was everywhere.

Anywhere I decided to go would find me doubled over in excruciating agony from the life that had been lost to me. The person that had been lost to me. So much time, gone forever. Maybe that was the worst part, knowing that I would have wasted so many years pining after someone that would never ache for me in return.

But that was the way that unrequited love worked: you longed from a distance and hoped that maybe one day, they would notice you, somebody that could love unconditionally and without bound, could take you for all of your imperfections and adore you all the same.

But who was I trying to fool? There did seem to be conditions attached to the love I so very much wanted to bestow upon my beloved. Another sob racked through my body, effectively ending the giddy high I'd been feeling after the brief bout of laughter I'd managed.

I didn't want him to leave me waiting forever. But was that so much to ask? That he wanted to be with me in return? Wasn't that only to be expected? How else would we go on together?

He couldn't hurt the people I loved. No. I would never allow that. I could never tolerate the destruction of the livelihood of those around me. No. Nobody deserved to be able to hurt others and still be loved.

Yet, why did I still love him?

Of course, the love wasn't the same anymore. Not the fire that burned to the touch but continued to make me want to hold on and embrace him with all my being, even lest I get burned in the process. No, the fire of that love had faded; burned away into sizzling embers, barely even red with heat. Only the continuing presence of the smoke had alerted me to the existence of the passion that had once consumed my life.

Was I not good enough for some perfect specimen like him? Did I not deserve to be loved with the same ferocity that I was willing to bestow on someone else? What was wrong with me? Why could I not be loved? I knew I wasn't the prettiest girl out there, and I knew my great intelligence sometimes intimidated others. I also knew that I could be petty and imprudent sometimes, judging people outwardly before getting a chance to view the person more deeply.

What an incompetent fool I was! Thinking that someone would want me when I was terribly trivial and neglectful, unseeing of things that were right in front of me. Of course he wouldn't want someone like me. But who did he want?

Maybe he had found someone else. Maybe he no longer needed me to make him feel special anymore.

I laughed again at that ridiculous thought, tears still flowing unstopping from my eyes. The sound was bitter and acidic in my throat. He never needed me. He could feel superior and powerful all on his own. He didn't need someone else to make him feel whole. Not like I did.

So would that make him find someone else? Someone to replace me with? We had never been together officially, though, so there was no real vendetta to be considered for him. He left voluntarily of his own accord: no one had pushed him to abandon all of us and brand himself a rogue, a traitor. No, he accomplished that goal all by himself.

So why did I still have feelings for him? Why did that smoke continue to haunt me whenever I passed by a familiar location that I remembered him to be, quietly thinking of something, anything, always keeping his thoughts to himself?

I wished with all my heart that I didn't love him anymore. I wished that I no longer felt anything toward him anymore. Because these horrendous feelings had almost cost me my life, and even the lives of the people around me. Lives much more precious and deserving than his would ever be.

Yes, he no longer deserved the attention that I continued to give him. There were others that much required my absolute devotion. Because they had stuck by my side through it all, through my ups and downs, through hideous displays of my incompetence and the wonderful joy from accomplishments I'd achieved.

Instead of shutting the world outside away, I threw the windows open completely, smiling fiercely into the beautiful, full-moon night. Why did nighttime have to be the point in my existence that made me feel lowly and lonely? Why did the day have to be the only place I felt safe?

I was strong, physically for sure. I wasn't quite sure if my mental or emotional strength could handle me being by myself, but then again, I knew I wasn't ever alone anymore. I pictured the smiling faces of all of those around me who I loved and kept close, the people who I could count on even through this dark period of my life.

Laughing greatly, I leaned slightly out of the window, closing my eyes and relishing the feel of the crisp air colliding with the feverish skin of my face. The wind quickly dried the trails of tears on my cheeks, erasing the signs of emotional abuse I had tormented myself with tonight. The outside world felt wonderful. I had locked myself up in this hellhole of a room for far too long. It was high time I reintroduced myself to the rest of society once again.

And learn to stand on my own two feet. Yes, it would be hard, and I would fall and become unstable at times. But there were people I could lean on in times such as those, friends, family, and loved ones who cared for me and who I'd been depending on even without my knowledge.

I didn't need to hang on to the self-damaging memories that had haunted me, turned me into a ghost of my formal self. Because I was stronger than that. I knew I was. I felt deep down in the base of my bones that I could persevere and reemerge on the other side victorious, having defeated the great depression cast over me by the loss of my former love. The former love who never returned my feelings, never even tried.

I wasn't exactly sure how to be on my own. I knew that there was a person underneath this mess of tangled emotions, but I wasn't exactly sure how to reach out to her and save her from the problem that was myself. But I would try. I would try to break down the barrier keeping me from living the way I wanted to, free from all of my previous vices.

Continuing my mad laughter out into the brilliant, lovely, wonderful night, I caught sight of something that made my heart skip with joy. There, there below my second-story window under the ivy vines, somebody was coming up the walk. He carried something in his arms. I wasn't completely sure what he was holding, or why he was visiting at such a time of night.

I decided to call down to him from my open window, first to let him know that I was aware of his secretive presence, and second because I really didn't want him to wake my family in the dead of the night and deal with those strenuous consequences.

He looked up at me when I called his name. I waved at him. His smile was delicious and inviting, infectious and warm, earth-shattering and bright. I smiled back in return.

As he watched me smile, his face changed, worry and concern etching lines into his forehead and around his mouth. He wanted to know if I was okay. He had obviously come to check on me after I had not escaped the confines of my room for so long.

I merely continued to smile at him reassuringly, resting my chin in my palms and my elbows on the sill of my window. I wanted him to come up and keep me company. I needed another human being to be near me. I needed the companionship of someone I was close with, needed someone to come to me and stay with me.

And he had always been there. Patiently waiting for me to learn to love him as he loved me. Of course, I wasn't sure I deserved to love someone like him. He was simply too great to lower himself to my level. He accepted everyone on their own terms and expected nothing in return. That was the part that continued to cause little sharp pains in my heart every time I looked at him. Every time I caught him staring at me with those eyes that were like the daytime sky that I loved so fiercely.

Because he didn't expect me to love him in return. It was enough for him that I let him be with me, even in the most unconventional of ways. Academy students, teammates, friends…

… And lovers? Could I learn to love him back?

Not right this instant, no, but maybe in the future, if I continued on this healing path that had seemed to overtake me tonight, I might be able to develop the feelings for him that I once held so dear for the man who left me, who left his life here.

"I brought some food for you, Sakura," he said to me, returning me back into the reality of the midnight meeting. He had climbed into my window easily, sitting with me in the middle of the rug on the hardwood floor. His eyes were bright and sparkling with happiness, relief, and contentment. I knew I could learn so much from this boy. "I heard you weren't eating, and I thought maybe you wanted company." He added in a sheepish whisper, rubbing the back of his neck, "I was really getting worried about you."

I treated him to another of my new smiles and picked through all of the items he had been carrying. There seemed to be a familiar pattern to his food choices.

"Did you only bring ramen with you, Naruto?"

He looked a bit uneasy for a moment after hearing my comment, so used to was he of the contempt in my voice that often seared him. But after taking a peek at my face, he realized that I was teasing him good-naturedly, happy for once just to be around someone as forgiving and caring as he.

"Well, it's all I can really afford." He gave me an apologetic smile. "I'm sor—"

I quickly pressed a finger to his lips and shook my head.

"I love it," I concluded. "And I'm starved!" He smiled genuinely at my energetic enthusiasm. "So what's first on the menu, chef?"

We continued to sit together, eating the rations of ramen he smuggled with him well into the pink and orange skies of the dawn, and I watched him fall asleep on my rug. He must have been in as much pain as me the last few months. He had lost _him_ as well, but he also lost me. I felt a surge of shame rush through me, shame that I had caused him even more pain, selfishly acting as though I was the only one experiencing the loss of someone important.

Grabbing the down-filled comforter from my bed, I threw it over the blond adolescent boy, gently stroking his hair as I sat down next to him, watching the glorious sunrise lighten the sky outside of my window.

When Sasuke left, he took a part of my heart along with him, a piece of my soul that I didn't think I could ever replace. Well, that might have still been true at this moment, but I hoped in the future that the hole there would eventually disappear. Because maybe, just maybe, I had already replaced the missing piece with someone else more deserving, someone who I knew would never leave me hurting and broken.

And I would love him with all of my soul, and I would be happy as long as we were together, side by side, for as long as time would allow.

I snuggled down next to the young man that had crawled through my window in the middle of the night, only to check on me because he loved me and he was worried.

Maybe he would be my missing piece.

AN: Okay, readers. What did you think of this little insight into Sakura's soul? Tell me what you think because I actually liked it. I want to know what I should write, and what you guys like to read about.

~Kara


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